


Work On That

by birdsandivory



Series: Work On That [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bickering, Child!Cindy, Child!Lunafreya, Child!noctis, Dad!Cor, Dad!Ignis, Enemies to Lovers, Fleurentia, Hilarity, I'm Sorry, M/M, Ravnis, Ravus being a BRAT, child!prompto, kids being kids, spelling bees, sweatervests, the au nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-01-29 10:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: ++ Ignis Scientia: father of one, strongly dislikes Ravus Nox Fleuret.++ Ravus Nox Fleuret: legal guardian and brother, hates Ignis Scientia.Welcome to Insomnia Elementary’s Annual Spelling Bee Championship!





	Work On That

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the most hilarious thing I have ever written in my life. Expect it to be part of a four fiction series, full of hysterics, puns, bickering, and a lot of Fleurentia Love (TM).
> 
> You can find more of my Final Fantasy works on [Tumblr](http://birdsandivory.tumblr.com).

"V-i-v-i-s-e-p-u-l-t-u-r-e. Vivisepulture."

A long-standing silence and a nod indicated the correct spelling of the word, and Ignis released the breath that he'd been holding since the moment Noctis had asked for a definition, the very term clear in his mind as he listened to his son speak each and every letter - monotonously, of course, but precisely all the same. It was rather difficult for a child of his age, merely in the fourth grade and being made to try his hand at a word of five syllables, but it was nearing the final rounds of the spelling bee and as such - trials akin to these were expected. The bespectacled father of one had ensured their victory despite the fact, for he and Noctis had endured many nights of practice, having been groomed for the yearly spelling competitions since he was in the first grade - and being his first time, he was rather proud that he'd been doing so well, following in his father’s footsteps as he stood as one of three remaining competitors.

This time, however, Noctis would succeed where he had failed all of those years ago - especially since he'd spotted a young, pale blonde amongst the other spellers, aware of his competition immediately when gazing upon such strikingly familiar features. And really, he should not have felt such an overwhelming need to see his son  _destroy_  her in the competition; she was only a little girl, after all, and was young Noctis' closest friend.

However, she was also the sister of a one Ravus Nox Fleuret, and if he remembered correctly -  _which he most certainly did_  - the man had bested him in every spelling bee they had participated in until their second year of high school.

...Never again.

The first instance he’d gazed upon Ravus after their time as classmates, it was Noctis’ introductory day of the first grade and the boy had insisted Ignis walk him all the way into the classroom, abandoning him thus and immediately running over to Lunafreya by the building blocks in order to assist her in constructing her kingdom when they did so. However, she was accompanied by a tall, broad shadow that loomed over her despite the fact that he was kneeling, and he’d watch as his son was given a kind smile - seemingly enjoying that his younger sister, whom Ignis believed to be his daughter at the time, were becoming fast friends.

It was absolutely  _disdainful_.

Ignis knew the other man had thought just the same once his eyes trailed toward him, perhaps hoping to greet whomever he believed Noctis’ parent to be, eyes locking upon his own venomous hues for a long moment as the expression upon his visage altered. Ravus was a marvel to witness, he despised to admit, an unwavering grace about his movements - so fluid, precise and elegant, calculated in a way that seemed inhuman.

Nothing about him had changed.

And how slowly he rose, lips parting and eyes narrowing as he came to recognize Ignis, the years having gone by since graduation day not quite so many and not quite so few - however, the same searing burn he’d harbored in his younger years was newly aflame and he was instantaneously reminded of his humiliation.

Noctis’ budding friendship soon became a problem.

Now, to anyone else, the loss of a spelling bee might have once been something to laugh at; it shouldn’t have mattered, not truly. However, Ravus had been known to be utterly condescending and his words were less than kind each and every time he and Ignis had bothered speaking to each other. They were rivals in intellect and the pinnacle of their war had always been the yearly spelling bees they’d participated in.

Ignis had always practiced hours upon hours for days just for the chance to beat the man at his own game, but Ravus stole the trophy at every competition - ridiculing him for his failure.

Looking back now, he could have sworn that there was a point in which he simply decided to keep the other at arm’s length, allowing Noctis and Lunafreya to play freely and without judgement - forgetting Ravus had ever bothered to return in the first place. It was not to be so, however, as a school flyer for an annual spelling bee had come into his possession and he’d been entirely determined to make sure his boy entered.

Of course, Ravus must have caught wind and registered his little wench.

Little  _sister_. He meant little sister.

It had become utter torment from then on, Noctis having been excited, at first, to showcase a skill - though his cheerfulness wavered once training had begun, time passing by ever so unhurriedly until he was finally of age to compete upon entering the fourth grade. Ignis had not noticed his son’s reluctance on entering the spelling bee, the way he kicked the ground when his father mentioned that they would be reading from the dictionary before dinner, the way he pouted every time he was scolded for a word he misspelled one too many times.

Why, by the evening of the competition, the boy had only wanted to continue with it because Lunafreya herself would also be participating.

It was as such that they were led to this very point in time, Ravus in the crowd along the opposing end of the auditorium as they awaited the judge’s next call with anticipation. They whispered to each other, nodding their heads before one of the men - Clarus, he recalled - spoke into the microphone.

“We are going to call for a short break before the next round. Our contestants may congregate backstage where refreshments are being served. Parents, you may join your children. Dismissed.”

* * *

Noctis let out a soft breath of relief, turning to walk off of the stage, Lunafreya waiting for him with a small smile on her face - immediately locking arms with her as they set out for the cookie table. His father’s training had definitely paid off, though he was surprised he knew how to spell so many words at all, usually forgetting about them the second after his eyes roamed over a page of his dictionary. He had done his best though, and it seemed to be enough, because the only three contestants left were himself, Luna, and a boy named Prompto from his art class.

Walking over to the refreshments, Noctis grabbed a cookie for himself and handed one to Luna, looking to the backstage entrance to see his father strolling his way over with a pleased expression upon his face. Taking a bite of the treat in his hand, he waved the bespectacled man to them, speaking with his mouth full. “Hi, dad.”

“Noctis.” One of Ignis’ thumbs swept across his own tongue, planting itself on the boy’s cheek and rubbing it in order to remove some wayward crumbs, he was sure. Noctis could only pull himself away, a flush blooming across his cheeks, his traitorous best friend giggling beside him.

“Dad!”

“Right. Forgive me, dear heart.” A warm hand reached up and ruffled a head of ebony locks, the older man nodding his way before regarding Lunafreya, lips curling upward into a smile. “Good evening, Luna. Excellent job on making it so far along in the competition, I am very proud of the both of you.”

“Thank you, Mister Scientia.”

 _'So_   _fancy-schmancy_ ,' Noctis thought with a roll of his eyes, and their awkwardly polite exchange made him want to stick out his tongue - wondering how he ended up differing from his father so much. If anything, Lunafreya was far more like him than he would ever be and if he had his way, he’d think of her as the closest thing to a sister he would ever have regardless. 

In the foreground, he had only half-listened to his father telling him that too many sweets would bring about cavities, more focused on the fact that Luna’s  _super cool_  older brother was walking their way. He would never reveal his adoration for Ravus to his father, but the guy was just so  _awesome_ ; he wore fancy black suits to all of Luna’s events, let her watch scary movies with him, and sent her to school with  _two whole snacks_. 

He loved his dad very much, but he wore sweater vests and animal print button downs, and all he really got sent to school with was a lunch box with star-shaped sandwiches and a note that read:  _only crooks fail to hit the books_.

…Yeah, Ravus seemed like a  _really_ great brother.

However, he could tell that his father wasn’t overly fond of the man, the way his shoulders became tense as he stepped over - gloved hand moving to lie upon Lunafreya’s shoulder, intense eyes plastering themselves to Ignis’ form, ever so lackadaisical in the way they rolled over the man’s body.

The response was so forceful, Noctis and Luna looked to each other nervously, observing as neutral gazes slowly became piercing glares - his father’s jaw locking and he thought he could almost  _hear_  the grinding of his teeth. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Scientia.”

Even his  _voice_  was cool, and Noctis quickly looked up at his father at the very thought, almost horrified that he might have somehow known what he was thinking. 

“Likewise, Fleuret. I didn’t expect you two to be here.”

“Why would we miss the opportunity to claim yet another victory in our name?”

Ignis’ hand moved to clamp around Noctis’ shoulder, stiff and uncomfortable. “Unfortunately for you, my son will be bringing home the trophy. He’s worked quite hard for this, haven’t you, Noct?” 

If it were possible to sweat in the frigid air of the auditorium, a single drop would surely have run down the side of his face in his nervousness, being put on the spot by his parent having never ended well for him. The grasp on his shoulder had tightened, and his father was looking to him rather expectantly, not at all assisting in his rising anxiousness. 

He was only a nine year old, after all. 

Lunafreya became his savior just then, breaking away from Ravus to skip forward and tug on his arm, slicing through the tension in the air. “Come on, Noctis! We don’t have much time, let’s get some punch!”

“U-Uh, yeah. Sorry, dad! I gotta go!”

The break was clean, the muttering of the two men increasing in word and volume slightly, their behavior muted compared to their mutual dislike. Noctis was just glad he didn’t have to stand by and watch, instead walking over and grabbing a pre-filled cup of juice from the punch table.

“I’m sorry about Ravus, Noctis. I don’t know what he has against Mister Scientia, he is ever so kind.”

“Dad doesn’t like your brother either, Luna, he gets really weird if I say something about him.” The young boy pouted a little, taking a sip from his cup as he looked to his shoes, double-knotted by his father’s hand - just in case.

“Ravus does, too. He’s been training me to win the spelling bee ever since he found out that you were entering. Sometimes, I think he’s gone mad because he sits at the table highlighting our dictionary and talking to himself about beating the pants off of your father every chance that he gets. Though, he doesn’t say it as nicely.”

“Yeah, at bedtime, dad will stare at the flyer with a really mad look on his face and say ‘I will _beat_  you, Ravus Nox Flee- Flu-’” 

“Fleuret.”

“Yeah! And he’s all, ‘if it’s the last thing I do!’” Huffing in exasperation only a child with an embarrassing parent could understand, he downed the rest of his juice as an idea came to mind. “Hey…you know. They want us to win the spelling bee, right? …What if we don’t?”

“If we don’t? Neither of us?”

“Ahuh, that way they can’t fight because they’ll both be losers!” Noctis’ idea was met with a soft giggle, intercom buzzing with announcement that the spellers were due back on stage.

“Let’s do it! Let’s lose!”

Grin appearing on the young boy’s face, he nodded quickly before looking to where Ravus and his father had been standing, only to find that they had already gone back to their seats - resolving not to think much about it as he and Luna walked over to the stage, taking their chairs beside Prompto as Clarus cleared his throat into the microphone. 

* * *

“Insomnia Elementary’s Annual Spelling Bee Championship is now back in session. Our three finalists have returned and we will continue with our next contestant. If Prompto Argentum would step forward, please.”

_Soon._

Arms along the rests of the auditorium chair, one leg crossed over the other neatly in the warmth of a pristine, pressed suit - Ravus Nox Fleuret awaited his sister’s victory. He could nearly taste it, for she had never faltered in her spelling of any word, had never the need to even ask for definition - and one could be sure that she had not once mulled over the number of syllables in a term. She was perfectly groomed for a competition such as this, crushing her competitors with grace and finesse.

The Scientia boy didn’t stand a chance.

Well prepared he was, Ravus would admit, nearly impressed in the way he stood before the judges and spelled every term correctly thus far - but it would not be enough for a cultivated mind such as Lunafreya’s. Intelligent, witty, understanding far beyond her age - she was the ultimate intellectual amongst her competition.

And she was only in the fourth grade.

It made Ravus swell with pride that she would take the crown, and all he needed to do was simply wait for the other two to fail, starting with the bundle of anxiety that was the Argentum boy. Hearing the woman beside Clarus speak - Monica, was it? - he shifted ever so slightly in posture, manicured hands clasping together in waiting.

“Welcome back, Prompto. Spell for us the word ‘semaphore,’ please.”

Small, thin hands grasped one another before the blond, fingers threading as he fiddled with them nervously. His anxious swallowing could be heard from the speakers behind the audience and Ravus vaguely wondered how he’d made it so far in the first place, but funnily enough, he had.

“S-Semaphore. S-e-m-a…uh…f-o-r-e, semaphore.”

Amateur.

The ring of a bell, resonant in the air, was followed by a sigh - perhaps from the poor boy’s parent, though he didn’t linger on the thought. It was a near devastating blow for the young man, he could tell, lips pressed to one another as his eyes watered and he bowed his head. It was a shame, of course, though that did not stop the elder Fleuret from wearing his smirk.

“I’m sorry, Mister Argentum. That was incorrect. Any chance of you winning this competition depends solely on the performance of your next two competitors. You may be seated.”

The blond backed away, awkwardly walking over to his chair to sit quickly before wrapping his arms around himself, looking rather upset as warranted. Normally, Ravus was not so cruel and he adored children, always enjoying their presence as honest and frankly hilarious souls. But still,  _this was war_ , if the man seated several rows across the auditorium was any indication. He had not the time for sympathy and he did not have the time to dwell on anything other than his last victory over Ignis Scientia.

“Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, if you will please make your way forward.”

Ravus nodded to himself, watching as she jovially stepped over to the microphone in her new, white sundress - hair groomed spectacularly, the platinum waves accompanied by several meticulously neat braids, courtesy of her older brother. She had just as much a presence as he did, regal and exquisite in a room full of the common breed.

“Welcome back, Miss Fleuret. Spell for us the word ‘guetapens,’ if you would.”

Excellent.

It was a term they had been over countless times, expected not for its complexity, but for its use of hidden vowels and he was confident she would spell it correctly - as she had dozens of times before without missing a single beat. He watched as she nodded her head slowly, looking out into the audience in search before she locked her ever so large eyes with his own, an odd look to them that he could not quite place as she smiled.

He was a fool to return the gesture.

“Guetapens, g-e-t-a-p-e-n-s. Guetapens.”

The auditorium was eerily silent. 

A pin could drop and all would know the very moment it hit ground.

The only thing that Ravus had noticed was the absence of his own breath, the way that he’d gone cold as his fingers gripped the arms of the seat, eyes slowly narrowing with each second off passing silence.

 _‘Impossible,’_  was his only thought as the ring of the bell resonated within him, his sister moving to take a seat without so much as a look of disappointment - the very knowledge of such a thing shaking him to his core. And his only solace were the rules of competition, that she still had a fighting chance if the other two boys failed to spell their next words correctly, which made him slightly nervous. Prompto was of no issue, really, but it was Noctis - Noctis and his intellectual prowess that could stand between him and winning that trophy.

His  _sister_ winning that trophy. He meant his sister.

It took him but a mere second to look over and see Ignis staring at him smugly.

_Cheeky._

How he despised that contemptuous, mischievous, _illegally_ beautiful-

Ravus allowed himself to calm - if being on the edge of his seat with a gloved hand moving to press to his pursed lips was  _calm_  - and the Scientia boy was soon before the mic, arms behind his back as he swayed back and forth with an expression of boredom upon his cherubic visage while he was spoken to. “Welcome back, Mister Scientia. Spell for us the word ‘ursprache.’”

The boy looked far too confident, his lips curling into a mischievous smile that Ravus simply couldn’t place and somehow, it only left him more on edge - his brilliant hues looking to Ignis from far across the auditorium, the hopeful look the man wore creating a feeling of unease within him. And he looked to Noctis, swallowing thickly as the young man stood upon his tip toes to reach the microphone, his next words both unbelievable and incredibly satisfying. 

“Uhm. I dunno.”

The judges looked as confused as he felt, and surely as baffled as the boy’s father had appeared, a long moment passing by before any of them bothered to question the response. “You…don’t know? Would you like a definition, perhaps?”

“Uh…nah! I just don’t know. Can I sit down?”

“I- Well, I suppose so. But you do realize that if any of your competitors happens to spell their next word correctly, you will lose the Spelling Bee?”

“Ahuh.”

“…Very well. You may be seated, Mister Scientia.”

Lips parted dumbly, Ravus could hardly believe what he had just heard, and if the look of incredulity upon Ignis’ face gave any clue - Noctis and Lunafreya had done well to surprise the both of them. He could do nothing but watch then, gloved hand over his lips as Prompto stepped up to the microphone once more, and he could see his parental counterpart was doing the same - eyes no longer on him as he sat on the edge of his seat, just as nervous as he was.

Ravus watched silently, his left leg having begun to shake nervously, a habit he entertained in his anxiousness - teeth ground together so hard they nearly hurt. “Prompto Argentum,” the words spoken were slow and careful, as though the judge was unsure what he was to be faced with next. “Please spell for us the word ‘albumen.’”

The blond’s eyes lit up and it was the first time the man had truly been sure he would be losing his crown, the young child looking more than excited to spell the word for them. “Albumen! A-l-b-u-m-e-n, albumen!” 

_Damn it._

The judges looked to each other with a pleased expression, Monica smiling at the boy with great happiness. “Congratulations, Mister Argentum. You are this year’s winner of Insomnia Elementary’s Annual Spelling Bee.”

Prompto gasped, bringing his hands up to his chest with a most exaggerated expression, shock and disbelief upon his freckled face. “I won? Me?” With a few excited hops upon the stage and a wave of his hands out into the audience as an applause bloomed from before him, the child’s laughter filled the room as his father - Cor, or something equally ridiculous - wore a warm smile across his face as he gave the boy a standing ovation. “Dad! Dad! I won!”

“Bravo, Prompto!”

God, how he  _hated_  the man in that very instance.

Rippling muscles be  _damned_.

Ravus was unsure of the feeling coiling within him, his blood practically boiling as he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as he arose from his seat - his voice the loudest it had ever been. “No!”

The clapping had begun to slow, eventually ceasing as he stood, strands of silver slightly out of place after having released so ferocious a snarl - parents and children alike looking his way silently. Though, not all were looking to merely himself, as another had voiced that same, booming expletive from across the auditorium - Ravus finding that he had no time to be flustered once cool emeralds met his own muted hues. 

* * *

Ignis was just as stupefied, usually kept hair surely a mess as fingers had run through it more than once, the shock that he had spoken in outrage before dozens of parents left him feeling humiliated - but not at all more so than the fact that he had acted out alongside  _Ravus Nox Fleuret_. And he did not quite know what to say to the lot of them, the crowd looking confused as to why two fully grown men were screaming into the stage while a  _child_  was celebrating his victory.

It was absolutely pitiful.

And Ignis understood as much, straightening his posture in order to gather enough dignity to at least apologize to them, for himself and the man who seemed to be his lifelong enemy. However, Ravus must have decided to run with his despicable behavior, his voice calm - a projection throughout the auditorium.

“Unacceptable.”

Ignis watched in dismay as the suited Fleuret stalked his way to the stage, the secondhand embarrassment of his actions leaving the father of one grasping at the hem of his argyle sweater vest, a wavering breath escaping him. And as the other reached the judging table, gloved hands slamming against it, Ignis felt absolutely terrified for  _both_ of their children.

“This is an outrage! You know my sister knew exactly how to spell that word. I demand you discount that last round and start again.”

“Sir, I believe you know we cannot do that.” Clarus began, exhaling deeply through his nose as he tidied up several of the documents before him. “Young Mister Argentum has won, and you are surely upsetting the parents.”

“Look, in all honesty, I do not care that he has won. My sister is deserving of that trophy and I demand she compete against the Scientia boy this instant.”

“I am afraid that will not happen. The competition is over.”

“It is not over!”

“Really? Because there are no longer any competitors on stage.”

Ignis pulled his eyes from Ravus for the moment, seeing that the stage had indeed emptied, his child nor Lunafreya anywhere in sight. Still, the taller man hanging over the judges' table would not waver, a scoff both disrespectful and highly unamusing following their protest.

“There is indeed a competitor.”

Monica placed her hand over Clarus’, lips that had parted to argue soon closing once more as she began. “Mister Fleuret, I have no doubt that your sister is an incredible speller, just as you were. She has proved that today, but I assure you, there is no ‘re-do’ for a competition like this. Just what competitor are you talking about?”

A finger quickly pointed his way and Ignis decided that he had never faced so much embarrassment in his life than he did on that very day, sputtering as his face grew pink in color, his ears positively burning as several dozen pairs of eyes turned to look to him instead of the spectacle that was Ravus. 

He could have sworn he heard Noctis groan, confirmed by his son appearing near the stage, face covered by his hands as the taller girl beside him attempted to give him comfort. A poor parent he seemed in that very moment, though he had yet to even speak at all; being a victim of circumstance, he took it as it was, reaching up to adjust his spectacles as he huffed and looked to Ravus. “Do you know how absolutely ridiculous you look right now?”

“I could care less, Scientia. I want this finished once and for all. I refuse to give you or anyone else that trophy.”

“How _dare_ you attempt to humiliate me here? My son and your sister have both lost. We should leave it at that.” How the man had the gall to scoff at his words, he hadn't the slightest idea, taking a step toward him in order to emphasize his already heavily articulated words.

“Oh, spare me the heroics. You were after my throat today and you know just as much.”

“Me? After your throat? You are the one who constantly has to best me at everything we do!”

“That is because _I am the best_. What do you expe–”

“Enough.” The voice of one of the judges stopped both he and his enemy in their tracks, glaring eyes that had once bore into each other’s own now gazing to Clarus, the older man looking more than a bit exasperated. “Get on stage. We are to settle this and go about our evening.”

“Sir, this is a misunderstanding.”

“Mister Scientia, on stage, now.”

With all of the demeanor of a scolded child, Ignis did as he was told, following Ravus - whom was heading to the microphone with his head held high, it was absolutely  _disgusting_  - and stood awkwardly aside, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling far too warm within the cold auditorium.

It was high school level ruination all over again.

And that was simply the  _worst_  kind.

Clarus looked absolutely exhausted and Ignis could not blame him, for the tall shadow before them was a handful at best, demanding what he wanted without thinking much of others or the consequences. Once again, Ignis was facing an old nightmare, though with renewed vigor. 

If he was to take part in such a competition, he might as well do his best.

“We will start with you, Mister Fleuret.” A flicker of old eyes over the enormity of a child within an adult’s body, he gave a huff, looking down at a stack of documents before him - hopefully scanning for the most difficult of words. Once he seemed about ready, his gaze moved upward to Ravus, a dastardly smile upon so handsome a face.

It was completely  _ridiculous_.

The fact that Ignis had thought the adjective 'handsome' described the elder Fleuret, even more so.

“Mister Fleuret, if you would spell for us the word ‘eudaemonic.’”

“Eudaemonic. E-U-D-A-E-M-O-N-I-C, eudaemonic.”

“…Very well.”

The affair drug on and it would be solely with the assistance of the Astrals that they would make it to an end of some sort, for neither he nor Ravus had relented, spelling each and every term perfectly - with haste, much to the chagrin of the judges. Though he felt rather apologetic at first, Ignis was nothing short of competitive and he would not allow himself to be bested by his number one rival in this circumstance, it would be foolish on his part to do so.

Not to mention that it would do well to prove Ravus right and such a thought was not something he could possibly fathom. 

All of those years of mockery would indeed come to an end, even if a silly elementary school spelling bee would do it; it needed to be done all the same. Why, their children were the closest of friends! What sense would it make to constantly lower themselves to such tomfoolery for the sake of showing one another up? They should be setting examples, teaching Noctis and Lunafreya to learn from their losses–

“Mister Scientia, you are up.”

He would think more on the subject once he obliterated the competition.

Stepping up to the microphone, he looked out into the auditorium, finding that it had emptied save for Lunafreya, Noctis, and that other boy - Prompto, he believed - watching on curiously as a larger man loomed over them, trophy in hand and arms crossed. He could only assume him to be the blond’s father, looking less than impressed at their current behavior, Ignis was sure. It was too late to make a good impression at the moment, that much was clear, but he’d been far too caught up in his goal to simmer down. 

“If you would, spell for us the word ‘cymotrichous.’”

It was a simple word, really, one he’d spelled many times and had done well to teach Noctis during their training sessions. However easy the term was, the string of syllables caught in his throat when his eyes locked upon watery blues, small Prompto looking worried as ever that he would lose his place and trophy.

By the Six, what was he doing?

To lay such worry upon a small child for the sake of a decade old grudge? It was madness and in that moment, he’d never felt so ashamed in his life - a child on the verge of tears due to his ignorance and as he watched kind, dear-hearted Lunafreya place her hand upon the boy’s shoulder, he knew what it was that he had to do.

A heavy sigh echoed within the auditorium. “Cymotrichous. S-Y-M-O-T-R-I-C-O-S, cymotrichous.”

Clarus looked pleased as his hand reached forward and tapped the bell, nodding once to Ignis as the bespectacled competitor’s eyes traveled to Prompto once more, his father handing him the trophy before lifting him into his arms - half-hearted wave tossed over his shoulder as he exited. At the very least, the entire ordeal was over now.

“Ahah! Once again, you have _lost_ , Scientia.”

Ignis was sure he’d heard the judges mutter about going out for a drink as they packed up, though he wasn't entirely against their plight. As for a much larger, broader problem at hand, he decided his best bet would be to simply ignore Ravus - stepping off of the stage and making a grab for Noctis’ backpack, ushering the boy up and dusting off his shirt. “Come, Noctis. It is time for us to go home. Say farewell to Lunafreya, you will surely see her tomorrow.”

“Where is the boy? That trophy is mine.”

Reaching up, Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath as he felt his son’s tiny hand curling around his own free one. Pulling the boy along, he shook his head, frustrated at both Ravus and himself. “As you can see, the trophy went to its rightful owner.”

“Hardly. It belongs to me, though I suppose this time, I could forego it. The victory is just as sweet without a hunk of cheap plastic.” 

* * *

Stepping down from the stage himself, the most esteemed Fleuret made his way to his younger sister as she hopped from her seat, gloved hand gently patting her head as to not skew her braids. Waves of platinum bounced as she skipped by his side, following the Scientia boy and his father out of the auditorium. 

Ignis, on the other hand, rudely said nothing - choosing only to pull his son by the hand, escaping before he could face the truth of his fate. Ravus should have felt smug, for it was not everyday his rival decided to keep silent, quips not to be found as his tidy loafers made not a sound stepping through the entrance of the auditorium. 

By the Six, was he living in the  _thirties_?

His drab style was beside the point, however, as he was more concerned by the fact that he did not quite like a mute Scientia; the conflict was what he lived for and Ravus was almost insulted that he was being ignored.

“..--avus?”

“Hm?” His younger sister, angel that she was, tugged helplessly on the sleeve of his coat. And he, the ever so loving brother, would have answered if not for a certain man coming far too close to turning down the hallway without once uttering a word. “Hold that thought, Lunafreya.” With few steps, he caught up to Ignis’ side, hardly paying attention to Noctis - whom he ever so briefly saw was looking at him with unbelievably large blue eyes. It was not the appropriate time to think of his fondness for the boy - he was the enemy, after all, therefore he would go ignored.

Ravus would certainly not, however.

“Are you just going to walk away without once regarding me?”

“Seeing as that was what I was doing, yes.”

A scoff echoed within the empty halls. “This is what you teach your child? How to be ill-mannered?” The anger that appeared upon the other man’s visage was frigid in nature, a coldness that would send shivers down his spine, glare positively paralyzing. Still, he wore on despite the jaw that clenched before him, looking to Noctis after a moment. “You know, your father never won spelling bees when he was in school. You shouldn’t fret.” Lunafreya had surely grabbed onto his pant leg then, though he did not take notice.

“Winning is not everything, Noctis. Don’t let him make you believe otherwise.”

“But dad…you said winning  _is_ everything.” 

Ravus chuckled heartily, pleased with the sharp inhale heard as he gestured in a way only the overzealous could. “Either way, such words would only be said by one whom has never tasted victory.”

There it was, the twitch of the eye he waited for, thick swallow following as the other man became livid. It was so reminiscent of the old days, only far more entertaining since Ignis was trying his hardest to hold back that explosive fire within him.

“I have won at plenty of things. One spelling bee hardly counts–”

“Several, actually.” The pull at his leg became frantic, but he did not waver, finding that both of them had stopped walking altogether - facing one another in a rather burning standoff. “He was, in short, a loser.”

“ _That is it!_ ”

A slim hand shot out, grabbing his spring lavender tie in a manner most ungentlemanly, pulling his tall form toward a classroom door - though, not without speaking sternly to their children.

“You two stay put. Ravus and I need to have a talk.”

A classroom door was wrenched open, the rather debonaire Fleuret tugging himself from the claws holding strongly to him, quickly dusting the front of his coat and readjusting his tie. It was a Ralph Lauren Black Label, _for the sake of the Six_. He hadn’t had much time to think on it, however, as they were soon between a cluster of desks - Ignis turning to him with an enraged look on his face.

“How  _dare_  you attempt to humiliate me in front of my son? Is it not enough that I lost?”

Giving him a self-satisfied smirk, Ravus crossed his arms over his chest. “Please, you act as if this entire competition between your son and my sister wasn’t simply a way for you to have another chance at trumping me. You’re not entirely innocent here, Scientia.”

The forlorn look that followed was not missed. “Still...I would not tell a child that their parent is a loser. He looks up to me, respects me.”

Ravus did not answer to that, because perhaps there was a stinging bit of guilt within himself for such a thoughtless comment, perhaps there was something within him that was actually rather apologetic. Noctis was a good boy and he really did like him and to involve him was careless.

“And to then bring the judges into this. For the love of Shiva, Clarus and Monica were our school teachers! They probably find us immature brats at best.”

“You were just as upset with the outcome as I, don’t point the finger at me!” The arms over his chest had fallen, one slender hand pointing a finger of its own at the man before him. He was unsure as to why his voice had risen, as to why he felt slightly embarrassed to be given lecture, scolded like a child himself - but he would not have it.

“The moment I signed Noctis up for this competition, you were there, and for what? We have both lost and still you speak and act as though you despise the ground I walk on, as though it were my fault! Was my failure not enough? Was it so little that you must continue to show me how much you hate me a decade later?”

At that moment, Ravus had no time to think that they were being a spot too loud, that their voices were rising with each exchange of words - the only thing that mattered was that he fight back, that they continued the battle, that lips snarled with distaste and words rang venomous as they stepped forward to invade personal space. 

And that he did his best to ignore how wonderfully attractive Ignis was when angry.

“Hate you? I don’t have time to hate you! You’re the one who so aloofly sauntered off after each competition, ignoring my very presence until I called you out on it.” A gloved hand slammed onto one of the desks, slightly low in height and making Ravus loom over the shorter man, practically bathing in the flames of the other’s hot breath.

“Called me out? You would ridicule me! You cannot even carry out a conversation _now_ without some biting comment–”

“Don’t tell me what I cannot do when you cannot even spell cymotrichous, C-Y-M-O-T-R-I-C-H-O-U-S!”

A long silence followed, both men gasping, panting for breath as their eyes pierced into one another’s - tension as high as it would ever be between two parental figures. And Ravus would have had more to say, he felt, had emerald hues not flickered to his own parted lips - brows knitting together after a second too long before Ignis muttered in a deathly calm tone.

“Astrals be damned.”

Lips crashed against the taller man’s plush tiers, arms having immediately found their place around his shoulders, bringing them dangerously close. How they melded together in some strange form of ecstasy and his mind was a haze of clouds as he murmured against the other’s mouth. 

“Did you just speak the Astrals’ name in vain?”

Hardly waiting for an answer, he responded in turn, wasting no time in coaxing the other’s lips open, the hum he was met with only fueling his desires as he hastily peeled the gloves from his fingers, hands wandering beneath a horrendous sweater vest and onto smooth skin. Ignis flinched at the touch, hand grasping his left wrist for a mere second, though Ravus attempted to pay no mind - he could not exactly feel much there anyhow.

“Ice cold. A prosthetic?”

Nosing along the man’s jaw, he inhaled sharply. “Don’t you dare ask.”

* * *

And so, Ignis did not, simply moved hotly against the other’s lips his own as his backside met one of the desks - and he made haste to sit upon it, dragging Ravus between his legs by the belt loop, his form wrapping around him as he felt a hand traveling treacherously close to the front of his trousers.

He couldn’t bring himself to mind, not when his zipper was drawn or when the hand of the enemy mysteriously disappeared into his pants - Ravus’ lips having moved from his own to the column of his throat, a sharp bite to his flesh telling him that the other had bared his teeth as hardly appropriate noises spilled from his own lips. And surely he did not hear the door to the classroom open, nor the sound of heels clicking against the tiles.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Their response was instantaneous, at least on his part - as he’d ferociously pushed the other away from his person, turning to fasten his pants, ears and cheeks burning like flame from the utter embarrassment of getting caught like two rebellious teenagers. 

And  _Ravus Nox Fleuret_ , once again cause for such mortification, only smoothed his coat and replaced his gloves - expression unreadable if not for the irritated twitch of his lips. 

“Is there something we can assist you with, Principal Highwind?”

“Assist my ass, Fleuret.” The sound of her footfalls were intimidating and it took all Ignis had to turn and face Aranea, clearing his throat after a beat or two.

“Please, forgive us. We are terribly sorry for–”

“Damn right, you’re sorry. As glad as I am that you both are finally fucking each other’s brains out, I got issues with you.” A manicured, scarlet nail poked him in the chest and he was positive it would have pierced the skin had he not been wearing his vest, and he thanked whatever deity was watching over him that the problem in his pants was quickly dying down - for at least a tiny smidge of his dignity had been spared. “First, you hijack my spelling bee and make complete asses of yourselves. Then, you make the actual winner uncomfortable, poor guy’s already a ball of anxiety - he’s  _nine_. And now? You’re gettin’ handsy on little Cindy Aurum’s desk.”

“I–”

“I want you two to get out of here, got it? And this feud you’ve had going on for years now? Work on that.” Pulling her hand away, her ruby lips curled upward, amused. “Y’know, instead of workin’ each other.”

Ignis believed that even Ravus blushed at that statement.

“Now, come on. You scared the hell out of my assistant. Poor girl ran to come and find me.”

Quickly following behind Principal Highwind, he did well to not meet the other man’s gaze, though he fell slightly behind - Ignis dipping out of the classroom to see a young woman, dusting of pink upon her face, hiding behind a stack of flyers. Aranea gave her a pat on the shoulder before starting down the hall, shaking her head as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her blazer - the young Amicitia _(clearly)_ looking a bit shaken as she followed.

“Dad!” He would apologize later, he thought as Noctis raced toward them, Lunafreya in tow. “Dad, I heard weird noises coming from the classroom and thought you were hurt, but Iris said you were fighting ghosts! Is that true?”

Ignis Scientia, father of one, had not a response and decided it was better if he simply ceased to speak at all.

“He certainly did. With my help, of course. Evil little thing even bit him on the neck.”

Slapping his hand to the side of his own throat, he gave Ravus a glare, huffing as he turned to his child once more. 

“You are so cool.” Noctis looked wide-eyed at Lunafreya’s older brother, smiling up at him and - to his relief - the man smiled ever so softly back at him. “Dad, can me and Luna play games at the house tonight? Please! We lost and uh…” 

Ignis mulled over the question, rather a fair bit confused at the event that had just transpired within the classroom amongst other fragile topics that he wished to speak to Ravus about in order to calm his racing mind, therefore he supposed he could allow a night of games and playing nice - if just for the peace of mind it would bring him. “I…suppose that would not be a bad idea. Ravus is due to come over for a cup of Ebony anyhow. We must talk, after all.” His gaze traveled to eyes of contrasting hues, only to find confirmation in them, the older man reaching for Lunafreya’s hand.

Noctis looked to the both of them apprehensively. “Does this mean you don’t hate each other anymore? You never say Luna’s brother can come over.”

“Hate each other? We do not hate each other, dear heart, I assure you.”

“But Luna says you’re anemones.”

“Enemies!” The young blonde piped in, her elder brother giving a snort beside her.

Ignis blamed the Fleuret line for being so perceptive as he reached down to ruffle locks black as night. “Noctis, we may have gone a bit over our heads with the spelling bee, but I promise you, Ravus and I will not be at each other’s throats any longer.” Turning to the others in his midst, he straightened in posture. “Are we all ready, then?”

“As we’ll ever be.” Ravus stepped forward, turning to face the bespectacled man with an intense stare. “I do hope you have Battleship.”

“Let us hope you are an astute Admiral.”

“My naval strategies are far too complex for you to best.”

With an incline of his head and a well-lit flame between them, Ignis hummed.

“We shall see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos keep me writing!


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